Fascination

"Quærit Franciscus Valesius, Delrio,
Gutierrus, et alii,
unde vulgaris ilia fascini nata sit opinio de oculo fascinante
visione et ore fascinando laudando." De Faseinatione
Fatatus. A. D. 1677.
I have in Chapter Fifth mentioned several of the subjects to attain
which the Will may be directed by the aid of self-hypnotism, preceded by
Forethought. If the reader has carefully studied what I have said and
not merely skimmed it, he must have perceived that if the power be fully
acquired, it makes, as it were, new existence for its possessor, opening
to him boundless fields of action by giving him the enviable power to
acquire interest that is to say agreeable or profitable occupation in
whatever he pleases. In further illustration of which I add the
following:
To recall bygone memories or imperfectly remembered sensations,
scenes and experiences or images.
This is a difficult thing to describe, and no wonder, since it forms
the greatest and most trying task of all poets to depict that which
really depends for its charm on association, emotion and a chiaroscuro
of the feelings. We have all delightful reminiscences which make
ridiculous Dante's assertion that
"There is no greater grief than to recall in pain
The happy days gone by;"
which, if true, would make it a matter of regret that we ever had a
happy hour. However, I assume that it is a great pleasure to recall,
even in grief, beautiful bygone scenes and joys, and trust that the
reader has a mind healthy and cheerful enough to do the same.
What constitutes a charm in many memories is often extremely varied.
Darkly shaded rooms with shutters closed in on an intensely hot American
summer day. Chinese matting on the floors the mirrors and picture frames
covered with tulle silence the scent of magnolias all over the
house the presence of loved ones now long dead and gone all of these
combined form to me memory-pictures in which nothing can be spared. The
very scent of the flowers is like musk in a perfume or "bouquet" of
odors it fixes them well, or renders them permanent. And it is
all like a beautiful vivid dream. If I had my life to live over again I
would do frequently and with great care, what I thought of too late, and
now practice feebly I would strongly impress on my mind and very often
recall, many such scenes, pictures, times or memories. Very few people
do this. Hence in all novels and poems, especially the French,
description generally smacks of imitation and mere manufacture. It
passes for "beautiful writing," but there is always something in really
unaffected truth from nature which is caught by the true critic. I read
lately a French romance which is much admired, of this manufactured or
second-hand kind. Every third page was filled with the usual botany,
rocks, skies, colors, fore and backgrounds "all very fine" but in the
whole of it not one of those little touches of truth which stir us so in
SHAKESPEARE, make us smile in HERRICK or naïve PEPYS, or raise our
hearts in WORDSWORTH. These were true men.
To be true we must be far more familiar with Nature than with scene
painting or photographs, and to do this we must, so to speak, fascinate
ourselves with pictures in life, glad memories of golden hours, rock and
river and greenwood tree. We must also banish resolutely from our past
all recollections of enemies and wrongs, troubles and trials, and throw
all our heart into doing so. Forgive and forget all enmities those of
Misfortune and Fate being included. Depend upon it that the brighter you
can make your Past the pleasanter will be your Future.
This is just the opposite to what most people do, hence the frequent
and fond quotation of pessimistic poetry. It is all folly, and worse.
One result is that in modern books of travel the only truthful or vivid
descriptions are of sufferings of all kinds, even down to inferior
luncheons and lost hair brushes. Their joys they sketch with an
indifferent skill, like HEINE'S monk, who made rather a poor description
of Heaven, but was "gifted in Hell," which he depicted with dreadful
vigor.
I find it a great aid to recall what I can of bygone beautiful
associations, and then sleep on them with a resolve that they shall
recur in complete condition. He who will thus resolutely clean up his
past life and clear away from it all sorrow as well as he can,
and refurnish it with beautiful memories, or make it better, coûte
que coûte, will do himself more good than many a doleful moral
adviser ever dreamed of. This is what I mean by self-fascination
the making, as it were, by magic art, one's own past and self more
charming than we ever deemed it possible to be. We thus fascinate
ourselves. Those who believe that everything which is bygone has gone to
the devil are in a wretched error. The future is based on the past yes,
made from it, and that which was never dies, but returns to
bless or grieve. We mostly wrong our past bitterly, and bitterly does it
revenge itself. But it is like the lion of ANDROCLES, it remembers those
who treat it kindly. "And lo! when ANDROCLES was thrown to the lion to
be devoured, the beast lay down at his feet, and licked his hands." Yes,
we have all our lions!
To master difficult meanings. It has often befallen me, when
I was at the University, or later when studying law, to exert my mind to
grasp, and all in vain, some problem in mathematics or a puzzling legal
question, or even to remember some refractory word in a foreign language
which would not remain in the memory. After a certain amount of
effort in many of these cases, further exertion is injurious, the mind
or receptive power seems to be seized as if nauseated with spasmodic
rejections. In such a case pass the question by, but on going to bed,
think it over and will to understand it on the morrow. It will
often suffice to merely desire that it shall recur in more intelligible
form in which case, nota bene if let alone it will obey. This
is as if we had a call to make tomorrow, when, as we know, the memory
will come at its right time of itself, especially if we employ
Forethought or special pressure.
When I reflect on what I once endured from this cause, and how
greatly it could have been relieved or alleviated, I feel as if I could
beg, with all my heart, every student or teacher of youth to seriously
experiment on what I set forth in this book. It is also to be observed,
especially by metaphysicians and mental philosophers, that a youth who
has shown great indifference to, let us say mathematics, if he has
manifested an aptitude for philosophy or languages, will be in all cases
certain to excel in the former, if he can be brought to make a good
beginning in it. A great many cases of bad, i. e., indifferent
scholarship, are due to bad teaching of the rudiments by adults who took
no interest in their pupils, and therefore inspired none.
To determine what course to follow in any Emergency. Many a
man often wishes with all his heart that he had some wise friend to
consult in his perplexities. What to do in a business trouble when we
are certain that there is an exit if we could only find it a sure way to
tame an unruly horse if we had the secret to do or not to do whate'er
the question truly all this causes great trouble in life. But, it is
within the power of man to be his own friend, yes, and companion, to a
degree of which none have ever dreamed, and which borders on the
weird, or that which forebodes or suggests mysteries to come. For
it may come to pass that he who has trained himself to it, may commune
with his spirit as with a companion.
This is, of course, done by just setting the problem, or question, or
dilemma, before ourselves as clearly as we can, so as to know our own
minds as well as possible. This done, sleep on it, with the resolute
will to have it recur on the morrow in a clear and solved form. And
should this occur, do not proceed to pull it to pieces again, by way of
improvement, but rather submit it to another night's rest. I would here
say that many lawyers and judges are perfectly familiar with this
process, and use it habitually, without being aware of its connection
with hypnotism or will. But they could aid it, if they would add this
peculiar impulse to the action.
What I will now discuss approaches the miraculous, or seems to do so
because it has been attempted or treated in manifold ways by sorcerers
and witches. The Voodoos, or black wizards in America, profess to be
able to awaken love in one person for another by means of incantations,
but admit that it is the most difficult of their feats. Nor do I think
that there is any infallible recipe for it, but that there are means of
honestly aiding such affection can hardly be denied. In the
first place, he who would be loved must love for that is no honest love
which is not sincere. And having thus inspired himself, and made himself
as familiar as possible, by quietly observing as dispassionately as may
be all the mental characteristics of the one loved, let him with an
earnest desire to know how to secure a return, go to sleep, and see
whether the next day will bring a suggestion. And as the old proverb
declares that luck comes to many when least hoped for, so will it often
happen that forethought is thus fore-bought or secured.
It is known that gifts pass between friends or lovers, to cause the
receiver to think of the giver, thus they are in a sense amulets. If we
believe, as HEINE prettily suggests, that something of the life or the
being of the owner or wearer has passed into the talisman, we are not
far off from the suggestion that our feelings are allied. All over
Italy, or over the world, pebbles of precious stone, flint or amber,
rough topaz or agate, are esteemed as lucky; all things of the kind lead
to suggestiveness, and may be employed in suggestion.
What was originally known as Fascination, of which the German,
FROMANN, wrote a very large volume which I possess, is simply Hypnotism
without the putting to sleep. It is direct Suggestion. Where there is a
natural sympathy of like to like, soul answering soul, such suggestion
is easily established. Among people of a common, average, worldly type
who are habitually sarcastic, jeering, chaffing, and trifling, or those
whose idea of genial or agreeable companionship is to "get a rise" out
of all who will give and take irritations equally, there can be no
sympathy of gentle or refined emotions. Experiments, whose whole nature
presupposes earnest thought, cannot be tried with any success by those
who live habitually in an atmosphere of small talk and "rubbishy"
associations. Fascination should be mutual; to attempt to exert it on
anyone who is not naturally in sympathy is a crime, and I believe that
all such cases lead to suffering and remorse.
But where we perceive that there is an undoubted mutual liking and
good reason for it, fascination, when perfectly understood and
sympathetically used, facilitates and increases love and friendship, and
may be most worthily and advantageously employed. Unto anyone who could,
for example, merely skim over all that I have written, catching an idea
here and there, and then expect to master all, I can clearly say that I
can give him or her no definite idea of fascination. For Fascination
really is effectively what the old philosophers, who had given immense
study and research to the subject in ages when susceptibility to
suggestiveness went far beyond anything now known, all knew and
declared; that is to say, it existed, but that it required a peculiar
mind, and very certainly one which is not frivolous, to understand its
nature, and much more to master it.
He who has by foresight, or previous consideration of a subject or
desire, allied to a vigorous resolution (which is a kind of projection
of the mind by will and then submitting it to sleep), learned how to
bring about a wished-for state of mind, has, in a curious manner, made
as it were of his hidden self a conquest yet a friend. He has brought to
life within himself a Spirit, gifted with greater powers than those
possessed by Conscious Intellect. By his astonishing and unsuspected
latent power, Man can imagine and then create, even a spirit
within the soul. We make at first the sketch, then model it in clay,
then cast it in gypsum, and finally sculpture it in marble.
I read lately, in a French novel, a description of a young lady, by
herself, in which she assumed to have within her two souls, one good, of
which she evidently thought very little, and another brilliantly
diabolical, capricious, vividly dramatic and interesting esprit
to which she gave a great deal of attention. He who will begin by merely
imagining that he has within him a spirit of beauty and light,
which is to subdue and extinguish the other or all that is in him of
what is low, commonplace, and mean, may bring this idea to exert a
marvelous influence. He can increase the conception, and give it
reality, by treating it with forethought and will, by suggestion, until
it gives marvelous result. This better self may be regarded as a
guardian angel, in any case it is a power by means of which we can learn
mysteries. It is also our Conscience, born of the perception of Ideals.
The Ideal or Spirit thus evolved should be morally pure, else the
experimenter will find, as did the magicians of old, that all who dealt
with any but good spirits, fell into the hands of devils, just as ALLAN
KARDEC says is the case with Spiritualists. But to speak as clearly as I
can, he who succeeds in winning or creating a higher Self within
himself, and fascinating it by sympathy, will find that he has, within
moral limits, a strange power of fascinating those who are in sympathy
with him.
Whereupon many will say "of course." Like and like together strike.
Birds of a feather flock together. Similis similibus. But it
often happens in this life, though they meet they do not pair
off. Very often indeed they meet, but to part. There must be, even where
the affinity exists, consideration and forethought to test the affinity.
It requires long practice even for keen eyes to recognize the amethyst
or topaz, or many other gems, in their natural state as sea-worn
pebbles. Now, it is not a matter of fancy, of romance, or imagination,
that there are men and women who really have, deeply hidden in their
souls, or more objectively manifested, peculiar or beautiful
characteristics, or a spirit. I would not speak here merely of
naïveté or tenderness a natural affinity for poetry, art, or
beauty, but the peculiar tone and manner of it, which is sympathetic to
ours. For two people may love music, yet be widely removed from all
agreement if one be a Wagnerian, and the other of an older school.
Suffice it to say that such similarities of mind or mood, of intellect
or emotion do exist, and when they are real, and not imaginary, or
merely the result of passional attraction, they suggest and may well
attract the use of Fascination.
Those who actually develop within themselves such a spirit, regarding
it as one, that is a self beyond self, attain to a power which few
understand, which is practical, positive, and real, and not at all a
superstitious fancy. It may begin in imagining or fancy, but as the
veriest dream is material and may be repeated till we see it visibly and
can then copy it, so can we create in ourselves a being, a segregation
of our noblest thoughts, a superb abstraction of soul which looks from
its sunny mountain height down on the dark and noisome valley which
forms our worldly common intellect or mind, or the only one known to by
far the majority of mankind, albeit they may have therein glimpses of
light and truth. But it is to him who makes for himself, by earnest Will
and Thought, a separate and better Life or Self that a better
life is given.
Those who possess genius or peculiarly cultivated minds of a highly
moral caste, gifted with pure integrity, and above vulgarity and worldly
commonplace habits, should never form a tie in friendship or love
without much forethought. And then if the active agent has disciplined
his mind by self-hypnotism until he can control or manage his Will with
ease, he will know without further instruction how to fascinate, and
that properly and legitimately.
Those who now acquire this power are few and far between, and when
they really possess it they make no boast nor parade, but
rather keep it carefully to themselves, perfectly content with what it
yields for reward. And here I may declare something in which I firmly
believe, yet which very few I fear will understand as I mean it. If this
fascination and other faculties like it may be called Magical (albeit
all is within the limits of science and matter), then there are
assuredly in this world magicians whom we meet without dreaming that
they are such. Here and there, however rare, there is mortal who has
studied deeply but
"Softened all and tempered into beauty;
And blended with lone thoughts and wanderings,
The quest of hidden knowledge, and a mind
To love the universe."
Such beings do not come before the world, but hide their lights,
knowing well that their magic would defeat itself, and perish if it were
made common. Any person of the average worldly cast who could work any
miracles, however small, would in the end bitterly regret it if he
allowed it to be known. Thus I have read ingenious stories, as for
instance one by HOOD, showing what terrible troubles a man fell into by
being able to make himself invisible. Also another setting forth the
miseries of a successful alchemist. The Algonquin Indians have a legend
of a man who came to grief and death through his power of making all
girls love him. But the magic of which I speak is of a far more subtle
and deeply refined nature, and those who possess it are alone in life,
save when by some rare chance they meet their kind. Those who are deeply
and mysteriously interested in any pursuit for which the great multitude
of all-alike people have no sympathy, who have peculiar studies and
subjects of thought, partake a little of the nature of the magus.
Magic, as popularly understood, has no existence, it is a literal
myth for it means nothing but what amazes or amuses for a short
time. No miracle would be one if it became common. Nature is infinite,
therefore its laws cannot be violated ergo, there is no magic
if we mean by that an inexplicable contravention of law.
But that there are minds who have simply advanced in knowledge beyond
the multitude in certain things which cannot at once be made common
property is true, for there is a great deal of marvelous truth not as
yet dreamed of even by HERBERT SPENCERS or EDISONS, by RONTGENS or other
scientists. And yet herein is hidden the greatest secret of future human
happenings.
"What I was is passed by,
What I am away doth fly;
What I shall be none do see,
Yet in that my glories be."
Now to illustrate this more clearly. Some of these persons who are
more or less secretly addicted to magic (I say secretly, because they
cannot make it known if they would), take the direction of feeling or
living with inexpressible enjoyment in the beauties of nature. That,
they attain to something almost or quite equal to life in Fairyland, is
conclusively proved by the fact that only very rarely, here and there in
their best passages, do the greatest poets more than imperfectly and
briefly convey some broken idea or reflection of the feelings which are
excited by thousands of subjects in nature in many. The Mariana of
TENNYSON surpasses anything known to me in any language as conveying the
reality of feeling alone in a silent old house, where everything is a
dim, uncanny manner, recalled the past yet suggested a kind of
mysterious presence as in the passage:
"All day within the dreary house
The doors upon their hinges creaked,
The blue fly sang in the pane, the mouse
Behind the mouldering wainscot shrieked,
Or from the crevice peered about;
Old faces glimmered thro' the doors,
Old footsteps trod the upper floors,
Old voices called her from without."
Yet even this unsurpassed poem does no more than partially
revive and recall the reality to me of similar memories of long, long
ago, when an invalid child I was often left in a house entirely alone,
from which even the servants had absented themselves. Then I can
remember how after reading the Arabian Nights or some such unearthly
romance, as was the mode in the Thirties, the very sunshine stealing
craftily and silently like a living thing, in a bar through the shutter,
twinkling with dust, as with infinitely small stars, living and dying
like sparks, the buzzing of the flies who were little blue imps, with
now and then a larger Beelzebub a strange imagined voice ever about,
which seemed to say something without words and the very
furniture, wherein the chairs were as goblins, and the broom a tall
young woman, and the looking-glass a kind of other self-life all of this
as I recall it appears to me as a picture of the absence of human beings
as described by TENNYSON, plus a strange personality in every
object which the poet does not attempt to convey. This is, however, a
very small or inferior illustration; there are far more remarkable and
deeply spiritual or esthetically-suggestive subjects than this, and that
in abundance, which Art has indeed so reproduced as to amaze the many
who have only had snatches of such observation themselves.
But the magicians, SHELLEY, or KEATS, or WORDSWORTH, only convey
partial echoes of certain subjects, or of their specialties. It is
indeed beautiful to feel what Art can do, but the original is worth far
more. And if the reader would be such a magician, let him give his heart
and will to taking an interest in all that is beautiful, good and true
or honest. For that it really can be done in all fullness is true beyond
a dream of doubt. By the ordinary methods of learning one may indeed
acquire an exact, mechanically drawn picture, which we modify with what
beauty chance bestows. But he who will learn by the process which I have
endeavored to describe, or by studying with the will, cannot
fail to experience a strange enchantment in so doing, as I have read in
an Italian tale of a youth who was sadly weary of his lessons, but who,
being taken daily by certain kind fairies into their school on a hill,
found all difficulties disappear and the pursuit of knowledge as joyful
as that of pleasure.
I have heard hypnotism, with regard to fascination, spoken of with
great apprehension. "It is dreadful," said one to me, "to think of
anybody's being able to exercise such an influence on anyone." And yet,
widely known as it is, instances of its abuse are very rare. Thus, when
Cremation was first discussed, it was warmly opposed, because somebody
might be poisoned, and then, the body being burned, there could
be no autopsy! Nature has decreed some drawback to the best things;
nothing is perfect. But to balance the immense benefits latent in
suggestion against the problematic abuses is like condemning the ship
because a bucket of tar has been spilt on the deck.
Sincere kindness and respect, which are allied unto identity, are the
best or surest key to love, and they in turn are allied to fascination.
Here I might observe that the action of the eye, which is a silent
speech of emotion, has always been regarded as powerful in fascination,
but those who are not by nature gifted with it cannot use it to much
good purpose. That emotional, susceptible subjects ready to receive
suggestion can be put to sleep or made to imagine anything terrible
regarding anybody's glance is very true, just as an ignorant Italian
will believe of any man that he has the malocchio if he be told
so, whence came the idea that Pope Gregory XVI had the evil eye. But
where there is sincere kindly feeling it makes itself felt in a
sympathetic nature by what is popularly called magic, only because it is
not understood. The enchantment lies in this, that unconscious
cerebration, or the power (or powers), who are always acting in us,
effect many curious and very subtle mental phenomena, all of which they
do not confide to the common-sense waking judgment or Reason, simply
because the latter is almost entirely occupied with common worldly
subjects. It is as if someone whose whole attention and interest had
been at all times given to some plain hard drudgery, should be called on
to review or write a book of exquisitely subtle poetry. It is, indeed,
almost sadly touching to reflect how this innocent and beautiful faculty
of recognizing what is good, is really acting perhaps in evil and merely
worldly minds all in vain, and all unknown to them. The more the
conscious waking-judgment has been trained to recognize goodness, the
more will the hidden water-fairies rise above the surface, as it were,
to the sunshine. So it comes that true kindly feeling is recognized by
sympathy, and those who would be loved, cannot do better than make
themselves truly and perfectly kind by forethought and will,
and with this the process of self-hypnotism will be a great aid. For it
is not more by winning others to us, than in willing ourselves to them
that true Love consists.
Love or trusting sympathy from any human being, however humble, is
the most charming thing in life, and it ought to be the main object of
existence. Yet there are thousands all round us, yes, many among our
friends or acquaintances, who live and die without ever having known it,
because in their egotism and folly they conceive of close relations as
founded on personal power, interest or the weakness of others. The only
fascination which such people can ever exercise is that of the low and
devilish kind, the influence of the cat on the mouse, the eye of the
snake on the bird, which in the end degrades them into deeper evil. That
there are such people, and that they really make captive and oppress
weaker minds, by suggestion, is true; the marvel being that so few find
it out.
But in proportion as this kind of fascination is vile and mean, that
which may be called altruistic or sympathetic attraction, or
Enchantment, is noble and pure, because it acquires strength in
proportion to the purity and beauty of the soul or will which inspires
it. It is as real and has as much power, and can be exercised by any
honest person whatever with wonderful effect, even to the performing
what are popularly called "miracles," which only means wonderful works
beyond our power of explanation. But this kind of fascination
is little understood as yet, simply because it is based on purity,
morality and light, and hitherto the seekers for occult mysteries have
been chiefly occupied with the gloomy and mock-diabolical rubbish of old
tradition, instead of scientific investigation of our minds and brains.
There is also in truth a Fascination by means of the Voice, which has
in it a much deeper and stronger power or action than that of merely
sweet sound as of an instrument. The Jesuit, GASPAR SCHOTT, in his
Magio Medica treats of Fascination as twofold: De Fascinatione
per Visunt et Vocem. I have found among Italian witches as with Red
Indian wizards, every magical operation depended on an incantation, and
every incantation on the feeling, intonation, or manner in which it is
sung. Thus near Rome any peasant overhearing a scongiurasione
would recognize it from the sound alone.
Anyone, male or female, can have a deep, rich voice by simply
subduing and training it, and very rarely raising it to a high pitch.
Nota bene that the less this is affected the more effective it
will be. There are many, especially women, who speak, as it were, all
time in italics, when they do not set their speech in small caps or
displayed large capitals. The result of this, as regards sound, is the
so-called nasal voice, which is very much like caterwauling, and I need
not say that there is no fascination in it on the contrary its tendency
is to destroy any other kind of attraction. It is generally far more due
to an ill-trained, unregulated, excitable, nervous temperament than to
any other cause.
The training the voice to a subdued state "like music in its softest
key," or to rich, deep tones, though it be done artificially, has an
extraordinary effect on the character and on others. It is associated
with a well-trained mind and one gifted with self-control. One of the
richest voices to which I ever listened was that of the poet TENNYSON. I
can remember another man of marvelous mind, vast learning, and
esthetic-poetic power who also had one of those voices which exercised
great influence on all who heard it.
There is an amusing parallel as regards nasal-screaming voices in the
fact that a donkey cannot bray unless he at the same time lifts his tail
but if the tail be tied down, the beast must be silent. So the
man or woman, whose voice like that of the erl-king's is "ghostly shrill
as the wind in the porch of a ruined church," always raise their tones
with their temper, but if we keep the former down by training, the
latter cannot rise.
I once asked a very talented lady teacher of Elocution in
Philadelphia if she regarded shrill voices as incurable. She replied
that they invariably yielded to instruction and training. Children under
no domestic restraint who were allowed to scream out and dispute on all
occasions and were never corrected in intonation, generally had vulgar
voices.
A good voice acts very evidently on the latent powers of the mind,
and impresses the esthetic sense, even when it is unheeded by the
conscious judgment. Many a clergyman makes a deep impression by his
voice alone. And why? Certainly not by appealing to the reason.
Therefore it is well to be able to fascinate with the voice. Now,
nota bene as almost every human being can speak in a soft or
well-toned voice, "at least, subdued unto a temperate tone" just as long
as he or she chooses to do it, it follows that with foresight, aided by
suggestion, or continued will, we can all acquire this enviable
accomplishment.
To end this chapter with a curious bit of appropriate folk-lore, I
would record that while Saxo Grammaticus, Olaus Magnus, and a host of
other Norsemen have left legends to prove that there were sorcerers who
by magic of the soft and wondrous voice could charm and capture men of
the sword, so the Jesuit ATHANASIUS KIRCHER, declares that on the
seventeenth day of May, 1638, he, going from Messina in a boat,
witnessed with his own eyes the capture not of swordsmen but of sundry
xiphi, or sword-fish, by means of a melodiously chanted charm,
the words whereof he noted down as follows:
"Mammassudi di pajanu,
Palletu di pajanu,
Majassu stigneta.
Pallettu di pajanu,
Palè la stagneta.
Mancata stigneta.
Pro nastu varitu pressu du
Visu, e da terra!"
Of which words Kircher declares that they are probably of mingled
corrupt Greek and ancient Sicilian, but that whatever they are, they
certainly are admirable for the catching of fish.
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